


Noise Complaint

by DollyPop



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPop/pseuds/DollyPop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spirit just wants some sleep, and how is he supposed to do that when Stein and Marie were insisting on doing the horizontal hokey pokey, loudly, in the room right next to him?</p><p>They're camp counselors. Can't they keep it in their damn pants?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noise Complaint

Spirit buried his face deeper in his pillows. He was going to kill that man. He really was. When he first got the opportunity to be a camp counselor, meaning he could keep an eye on his precious Maka, he jumped at the opportunity. So much so, in fact, he decided to drag Stein along because the man needed socialization and Spirit had decided in fifth grade that he would be the one to give Stein gentle nudges, or rather, fervent shoves, in the general direction of other people.

Now, he was regretting it. If he had just listened to his best friend when he informed Spirit that he would rather do just about anything other than spend twelve weeks at Camp DWMA, supervising children as they made macaroni art, Spirit wouldn’t be in the predicament he was, now.

Listening to your best friend having loud, rather vocal sex was never at the top of his list of priorities, especially considering that best friend was Stein. STEIN. He didn’t want to think about that just about ever, especially not considering who he was with. How was Spirit supposed to know that Marie Mjolnir would climb his best friend like a tree? So, okay, she didn’t seem too interested in Spirit when he leaned against the wall and accidentally slipped, only stomping on his foot when she noticed how he wasn’t all too focused on her face.

She must have realized when he looked up slightly, having focused on her pendant (the gaping neckline had nothing to do with any of it, he swears) with a start two minutes into their conversation, unfortunately one sided, and realized she was wearing an eyepatch.

Okay, so the pirate joke was in poor taste. Still. And so Stein had to drag him over to Nygus, who was working as the main nurse in the makeshift infirmary, so that he could ice his black eye. How was Spirit supposed to know that after his best friend dumped him off in front of the door, he’d come back and talk to Marie? Stein never seemed to have an interest in anyone! Let alone loud, praising women who called out “Franken!” and “Oh, that feels good!”

How was he supposed to know? He couldn’t, that’s how. And now, he was suffering.

For a brief moment, shoving the pillows to his ears helped. The world was muffled, no noise spilling out at all.

That is, until there was a loud thump from the wall next to him and he heard Marie moan again, her pleased cry bouncing past the thin walls of the dorm-like building they were all staying in.

That was it. That. Was. It.

He couldn’t take it anymore. It had been two hours. It was well past 1am in the morning. They had to be up at 8. Had they no sense of decency? They were camp counselors! Couldn’t they keep it in their pants?

Spirit sent a prayer up to whichever deity would listen that, for the sake of himself and everyone with functioning eardrums, the end would come.

No such luck. Five solid minutes later and he was ready to do something drastic. He had too much to live for, his daughter, for one, to have to go through such trauma.

He was done.

For a brief moment, he threw his arm out to bang against the wall, to yell for them to quiet down, but then the realization hit him.

For one, it probably wouldn’t go over too well. It would only result in fate, or Stein, laughing at the fact that their bedrooms were separated by nothing but a barrier of cheap drywall, and likely, the man would get back at him in some way.

But two, _their bedrooms were separated by nothing but a barrier of cheap drywall._

Oh. Oh, no. That was disgusting. No. He did not want to think about Stein having sex at all, let alone “engaging in intercourse” with nothing but a thin, flimsy wall to separate Spirit from them doing the horizontal hokey-pokey.

No. He had to put a stop to it. His sleep-deprived mind was refusing to cooperate and erase that fact, so Spirit threw the pillow to the side, listening in to the random crash as it hit against something in the corner. He shoved his blankets off, his eyes bloodshot when he walked past a mirror, and looked around the room. When he couldn’t find anything to bang together, no pots or items of that nature, he seemed to calm down, slightly. Thinking over what he was about to do.

And then the squeaks of the mattress came, and oh, oh GOD, was that STEIN? Lord, he sounded like some sort of dying animal. What woman would tolerate that?

Their bed was hitting against the wall. His wall. That flimsy wall that was the only thing separating Spirit from his best friend doing the nasty with Marie, who’d spent the past four weeks subtly flirting with the gray-haired man using Elmer’s Glue.

 _For God’s sake_ , Spirit would probably be able to pick her out of a crowd, blind, if she just yelled out “Right there!” That wasn’t normal. None of it was normal. He just wanted some _sleep_.

When he slammed his door open, it wasn’t a very long walk to get to Stein’s door, and he started knocking against it immediately.

They didn’t stop. Nothing stopped. Fate was laughing at him. He was certain if he looked outside, the very moon would be laughing at him. The stars. The gods themselves.

“HEY!” he called, rapping on the door again, but if anything, they got louder.

Fine, then. If they wanted to play it that way.

“I GET NO SLEEP CAUSE OF YOU! NOW YOU’RE NEVER GONNA SLEEP CAUSE OF ME!” he yelled out, repeating the mantra and knocking in rhythm, making a song of the chant. Over his screaming, he couldn’t hear other doors being opened, the campers murmuring, Nygus stepping out of her room asking him what in the world he was doing.

He also couldn’t hear that the moaning stopped, the bed creaking and Marie’s voice calling out as though in warning.

No. The only thing that stopped Spirit’s frantic screeches was when the door he was banging open flung open, revealing a very pissed off Marie in nothing but…Mary, Joseph and the Prophet, that was his shirt. The shirt Stein had borrowed ages ago and never gave back. It was a bit small on his friend, but on her, it practically hit her knees, sliding off her shoulder with how small she was in comparison.

“Is that my shirt!?” Spirit asked, mostly asking Stein (because what the hell, what if he wanted that back? He didn’t, but what if?) before he was cut off mid-sentence.

With a frustrated cry, Marie seemed to go straight for Spirit’s jugular and Spirit threw his arms out, screeching all too loudly and with a pitch some dolphins would have difficulty with. As they went tumbling to the ground, Marie’s hands trying to go to Spirit’s throat, Stein came behind her, leaning against the doorframe, looking amused.

Spirit managed to catch a glimpse of him and immediately wished he didn’t, considering the other man was in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs.

Inside out.

Backwards.

Lord, he was holding a pillow over his crotch as he lifted his brow. There were welts over his arms and shoulders, definitely coming from the blunted nails of the woman who was attempting to murder Spirit at that very moment. His lower lip was _glistening_.

What had Spirit ever done to deserve such a fate? How was he supposed to erase that image? Therapy was expensive and he still had bills to pay and a daughter to put through school.

In the background, he heard someone, Sid, it sounded like, racing forward. “Marie! Marie, he can’t breathe!”

“Good!” Marie replied, her voice warbling with bloodlust through the hallway, finally rousing any students who hadn’t already been awake. Sid moved forward but was stopped in his tracks almost instantaneously. 

It only took one look from Stein and the arms that would have gone around Marie’s waist, trying to pull her off of Spirit in efforts to save his life, halted. Message received. No touching.

Maka was likely traumatized, Spirit’s poor daughter. His poor, innocent daughter. His pure, deserving of better daughter. To see her father reduced to such a state, strangled by the petite woman who led the arts and crafts activities in nothing but an oversized T-shirt; to see Stein, Maka’s GodFather, standing behind said arts and crafts teacher, half-naked: Maka deserved so much better than the sight she was getting.

It was lucky for her that she took only a single glimpse at the scene and walked back into her room, deciding to spare herself the agony of having to go through talk therapy in twenty years to relive the nightmares.

Spirit, however, would have no such luck. But at least one member of the Albarn family was safe.

Sid decided to try to herd the campers back to their rooms, his call of “Nothing to see here!” prompting nothing but snorts, particularly from Stein himself, who seemed to be cheering Marie on, though it was hard to hear over the way she was wailing like a banshee from hell. The commotion was impossible to ignore, rumors already starting to fly, wild theories coming from every direction. Azusa’s crisp voice was trying to bring some sort of direction and even with her hair a mess and in her pajamas, the woman was a force to be reckoned with.

Still, nothing had really changed until the director of the camp came into the hallway, his footsteps heavy.

The entire area went silent immediately. Marie stopped, finally having gotten Spirit into a headlock, her stance perfect. Stein blinked, staring at the man everyone only referred to as Lord Death who cheerfully took in the scene, dressed entirely in his black PJ set and bunny slippers. The students didn’t even need to be commanded, only whirling back to their rooms, though leaving their doors cracked open and peeking out, making it so that only the counselors in the hallway were left standing.

Or, in Spirit’s case, sprawled out on the floor, curled in the fetal position. Stein finally stepped forward, putting his hand on Marie’s shoulder and helping her up after she released Spirit, her mouth opening to explain.

Lord Death only held a hand up, making the words die in her throat. They had a zero-tolerance policy for violence at the camp: or, at least, that’s what they advertised.

When all he did was bend down and help Spirit to his feet, sighing and looking over at Nygus who immediately stepped forward to drag him to the infirmary, it was so quite, if Spirit strained his ears, he could hear the bated breath of the campers. Lord Death looked over to where the newly-revealed couple was standing, his eyes flicking down for a moment before he made a ‘not bad’ face. Confused, everyone else followed their gaze before immediately looking away and Stein realized that he’d dropped the pillow in his haste to help Marie away from beating his best friend. He coughed and the blonde stepped in front of him, the flush creeping down her neck and shoulders.

There was a moment when everyone simply looked at one another, Sid creeping back into his room and Azusa adjusting her glasses. Lord Death broke the silence like he took a sledgehammer to it when he opened his mouth to tell his two camp counselors “Use protection”.

Marie’s flush deepened, especially when she noted that multiple doors were still cracked open, taking in the scene. All the campers were trying to get more information, and Marie inhaled sharply.

“We were just playing monopoly,” she blurted out, and Stein closed his eyes, shaking his head. There was the sound of hushed, quiet giggles and the disbelief was practically tangible, it was so heavy.

“Right,” Lord Death replied, his mouth twitching, and Spirit could only stare.

Hell, even he’d thought up better excuses in the past. Marie seemed to realize what she said and brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her own eye.

“Is that what you kids call it these days?” Lord Death continued, his amusement clear.

Marie winced. It was a wonder who she thought she was fooling with her hair a mess, the hickeys on her neck especially prominent in the cheap florescent light, especially since she was no longer in motion, trying to become a murderer. Stein only shrugged, a grin teasing against his lips as he chuckled at the sheer absurdity of the situation, leaning onto the doorframe more heavily. The red scratches over his chest and shoulders stood out especially harshly over his skin.

Nygus had brought her hand to her mouth, trying to hold down her chortles, and even Azusa shifted around with how ridiculous the entire scenario was.

When nothing else happened, Lord Death only shook his head, turning on his bunny-slippered heels and making his way back to his room.

“There are condoms in the bathroom! Take as many as you’d like,” he called out.

Marie opened her eye, staring at his retreating back, then made eye contact with the final handful of people in the hallway. Slowly, she stepped backward, pushing Stein into her room with her, and the soft click of her locking the door almost seemed to echo.

After a single second in which Nygus turned and gave an even look to everyone still glancing through their cracked door, prompting the campers to scamper away, she finally let out a snort.

“Now you’re never gonna sleep ‘cause of me?”

Spirit covered his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 3 of SteinMarie Week on Tumblr! "Is That my Shirt?" was the prompt.


End file.
